


Pieces

by michmak



Series: The Wizard of Odd, and other stories [21]
Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:50:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michmak/pseuds/michmak





	Pieces

Prompt: 020 – Still (list 2)  
Word Count: 616  
Progress: 21/100

 

He doesn't know how to be still, not even when he's sleeping. She is pressed against his uninjured side on the sofa and he is dreaming, but she can feel the twitch of his muscles as they rebel against their forced inertia. His eyes twist and roll under his lids and his mouth moves silently as he alternately mumbles or pleads to his dead.

Everyone thinks she is the broken one – even now – but she knows that is not the case. They went into her head and cut her brain; they made her think and do crazy, deadly things, but they never broke her – not really. Everyday, the girl inside her gets stronger. Her spirit is there; her essence is there – bruised and battered, beaten down, but never broken.

Not like him. He's been beaten down so many times, it's a wonder he's still standing. She sees him – into the very heart of him – how he's tried to put back the pieces they've managed to chip away. He's never managed to make them all fit again, and there are great chunks still missing. She trails a hand up his chest, feels the rhythmic beating of his heart, and wants to cry. He has lost so much over the years he tries to hold onto everything; never letting anything go – not even the memories that rip at him and make him bleed.

Zoe has tried to fix him, in her own way. She was there with him when they started beating him down. River knows that Zoe was broken as well; she and Mal – broken together. For the longest time, they had only each other to pick up the pieces – to remind the other what they were; to show each other what they could be again. The problem was, no matter how hard they tried they couldn't put each other back together properly.

It took Wash, and his gentle smile and manic humor and unrelenting love, to fix Zoe. He fixed her well; so well, in fact, that his death hasn't broken her again, even though it's made her bend. River thinks it's because he managed to fill all Zoe's cracks with memories of them – he's like the mortar which has patched her together; keeps her strong, keeps her pieces from scattering all over again.

River wonders, sometimes, if Mal will ever let her do that for him. She doesn't think he realizes yet how much she can help him. She knows him – sees his cracks and his holes – sees what he holds so tightly inside that it's tearing him apart. She wants to slide into him and help him let go of the things that need letting go and find places for the things he needs to keep.

Her hand is under his chin now, the backs of her fingers grazing lightly against the stubble of his jaw. His lashes rest thick and heavy against his cheeks and his battered, beloved face is slightly slack from sleep, although there is a muscle ticking sporadically just under his left temple.

It is five in the morning, and he fell asleep here last night while comforting her – holding her while she cried against his latest hurts. She knows he can't be comfortable like this, with her leaning against him and his injured side pressed into the arm rest of the sofa, but she doesn't want to wake him. He is warm and breathing. His arm is heavy around her shoulders. She can feel the rise and fall of his chest against her side.

And even though he's dreaming – always dreaming – she thinks the dream is a happy one because when she touched his face, he whispered her name.


End file.
